Every day is Vulcano day!
by Korilian
Summary: Donna Noble walks into a bar and meets... Morgana!


Donna Noble walks into a bar and meets... Morgana!

Donna eyed what passed for a barstool in these parts and time, hoisted her skirts up a bit and then quite a bit further so that she could actually climb up without tripping over all excess fabric. She'd always considered the period costumes a bonus. People here dressed crazy impractical though. It had taken her exactly ten seconds to figure out she couldn't actually walk in the dress she'd snatched out of the Tardis' wardrobe, without tripping over her own skirt. Ten more to realize that majestically gliding was just getting the satin tail and her boots covered in… well for her own peace of mind, she was going to pretend it was mud.

And of course twenty seconds was plenty of time for the doctor to get into trouble! She wasn't sure where he'd run off to, but the angry guy with the sword had needed ten minutes and three servants just to get his cape draped elegantly over his horse before he could give chase, so that would probably work out alright. Since no one seemed to have connected the two of them yet, she figured she'd make herself scarce for a bit and check out Camelot.

That had turned out as disappointing as the fashion. The castle was half in ruins and her walk around town had reminded her uncomfortably of a life aid ad, with dirty street urchins following her around and toothless old ladies with sores on their face sorting through the garbage on the ground. The only knight she'd come across had been a leering creep with buckteeth. It was enough to drive a girl to drink before twelve. Time was all relative anyway when you travelled with a Time lord.

"Oy you! What does it take to get a drink around here?"

The barman squinted at her from his one working eye and then actually stretched out one dirty paw as if to confirm that she was really there. He jumped back when a sword was slammed down on the counter between them.

Donna turned to her rescuer to see whether she should swoon or tell the bloke to mind his own business and stared.

"I believe the lady requested a drink." The woman next to her said. "Make it two." She smiled at Donna. "You must forgive him. They're not used to seeing a lady in a place like this." She casually rested her hand on the hilt of her sword and three men behind them sat back down abruptly and stared at their beer. "In fact I doubt many would dare to visit the lower town at all without an escort."

"My escort buggered off somewhere." Donna said, eying her leather pants enviously. She wouldn't look half as good in them of course, but she'd been under the impression that burlap of curtain had been her only options. "You don't seem worried."

"I'm no lady."

Donna kind of doubted that. The woman looked a rough, but unlike the people she'd seen around town it was Hollywood rough. Like a bath and clean dress would turn this ranger into a princess. "I'm Donna."

"I am Morgana." She picked up the cup that had been hastily placed in front of her and sniffed it delicately, before taking a drink.

"I'd have figured women could walk around safely in Camelot. Isn't king Arthur supposed to be the chivalrous sort?"

"King Uther, you mean." Morgana corrected her sharply, staring at her with a look that was half bafflement and half… something that made Donna squirm in her seat. "And this isn't Camelot."

"It isn't? Oh for… It's Italy all over again! He promised me Rome and I got Pompey instead! On volcano day!" She pulled up Morgana's sleeve to make sure she wasn't turning into stone, "Please tell me you can't see the future."

Wide eyed, Morgana wrenched her arm free roughly. The hand she'd kept on her sword, suddenly wasn't resting quite so loosely anymore. "Perhaps it is a good thing you are not in Camelot. There such a frank discussion of magic might cost you your head."

If the look before had been uncomfortable this one made her feel like a butterfly pinned to a board. It suddenly occurred to her that essentially accusing someone of witchcraft in the dark ages, might have been poor form. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply… uhm, anything." She took a deep gulp of her beer to escape the glare directed at her.

Morgana relaxed slightly, but still looked like she regretted sitting down next to a stranger.

"So uhm, where am I exactly?"

"This is the Earldom of Lord Gwyr, in the kingdom of Powys. About two weeks travel from the border of Camelot. Although understandably the earl quite prefers the residency in his wife's heir-lands."

"Are you're from around here?" Donna asked, searching for a safe subject, although from the look on her companions face, she hadn't managed. "I'm from London myself." She said quickly.

Morgana frowned, "I heard that region has been hounded by Normans in recent years. Is that what made you leave your home?"

"Oh no. I've just been travelling with a friend."

"And your escort of course."

"Well, they're kind of one and the same."

Morgana ducked her head and tried to hide a scandalized smile behind her hand, suddenly looking very much like a delicate princess dressed up in her daddy's armour. "I see."

"No, it's not like that!"

"Of course not."

"We're not together."

"Oh I've no doubt." Morgana patted her hand and froze. When she spoke it sounded like it was coming from miles away. "But you will be. When the stars go out and fires consume you, two shall become as one."

Donna looked down at their hands and sighed "Why do I suddenly have the feeling it's volcano day?"

THE END


End file.
